Nag
by ProtoChan
Summary: Rogers is known for being one hell of a nag. How do wild spirits like Tilly and later Alice feel when he's suddenly a very present part of their lives?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **Hi everyone! I posted this story to my Tumblr, theonceoverthinker, a couple of days ago, and it got some pretty good reception, so I thought I'd bring it here! So, to help me get over a bout of writer's block, my new friend killianmesmalls (Btw, if you are on Tumblr and are not following her, fix that) gave me a fun prompt about Rogers acting more fatherly towards Tilly in a nagging way, and how Tilly would act in such a case.**

 **Please enjoy it, and if you want, leave a comment afterwards!**

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Quite a few people have given Tilly marmalade sandwiches, but never before has someone taken one away.

Rogers had come by to Tilly's hideaway. That wasn't new. He had come by quite often over the past few weeks. His visits were mostly to play chess, but on occasion, he swung over to check in on her and see to it that she was safe and comfortable, often with the occasional remark about how Tilly needed to take better care of herself. Tilly's response was always a simple dare: "Make me."

Tilly was facing away from Rogers when he stepped in. She welcomed him in with a mouth half full of her precious marmalade.

There was a smell that followed him in. It was meaty, but smelled of spices too.

Tilly turned around and waved at Rogers. In his hands were two pieces of Tupperware, both filled with food. She asked him if he was here for another game. Instead of answering, he gives her a look. It's a far cry from the one he gave her the night Eloise Gardener was found, but there's negativity there, just mundane negativity, safe negativity.

"You've got to eat something other than marmalade, Tilly. Look, I brought you some chicken and a really good tomato sauce and some steamed broccoli."

It was nothing new.

"Make me," she dared, as she had about three times before at this point.

"Oh I intend to," Rogers said, darkly.

Tilly froze. Never had she expected him to actually act on their banter. She looked into one of his containers. What was inside was green and had a smell she hated. Did he really expect her to eat that? It would very likely come up the same way it went down.

It felt like the tables had turned, and it was her turn to be shot in the heart.

What happened next was worse.

He took her sandwich.

"That's my lunch!" Alice protested.

Rogers smirked at her. "I don't doubt you'll get another one of these, but right now, we're eating healthy." He then grabbed a couple of plates and utensils that were scattered around the train car, snipping about how they were going to clean this place the next time he came over. During that time, Tilly made no less that two attempts to take back her sandwich. She would've attempted more, but following the second attempt, Rogers opened the door to her hideaway and threw it as hard as he could. She pouted. "You'll thank me later," he said in response.

When the table was finally set, he put some of the food on their plates. Tilly, in return, gave him a stink eye. Who did Rogers think he was, taking her food, and making comments?

Tilly wasn't about to let him have his way. She glared, she held her breath - she really did everything but kick him out. No matter what, she didn't have the heart to do that, if only for the fear that once gone, he would never return.

Still, Rogers didn't give up, despite how appealing Tilly likely made the concept.

"I'm not leaving until that food is in your belly." Tilly glared harder. "I made it myself with love," he teased.

Rogers' tease made Tilly glare fall, and a bit of a smile rise. It was the first time he really joked with her and damnit, it was a little unexpected! He was like a snake charmer, but a nice, trustworthy one!

She decided to take one bite, just to appease Rogers. It wasn't bad, not the chicken at least, and one bit of that turned into several more. However, the broccoli was awful, and even half a bite was more than enough for her for one lifetime.

It was enough for Rogers. He was openly smiling now.

"See?" He boasted. "Not that bad!"

"Not as good as marmalade, though," Tilly shot right back. "You'll be buying me another sandwich later, by the way, for the one you tarnished."

"I will," Rogers said, sighing as he placed his and Tilly's plates in the sink. "You can keep the rest of the food."

"I'm not eating the broccoli."

Rogers seemed to know that that would be the case. "Fine, but I'm bringing another vegetable next time."

"Overrated, they are, vegetables."

"If you like cholesterol levels, sure."

Normally, this kind of talk would annoy her. She didn't need anyone telling her how to eat, or how to decorate. It was always so harsh and mean.

Then again, Tilly knew Rogers wasn't doing this to be mean. She wasn't a pawn to him like she was with Weaver. He brought her food, and played with her, and asked her if she was cold in her hideaway. He made sure she always had his contact information, and let her know when his shifts were.

And all he wanted in return was for her to eat the occasional item off the food pyramid. It was still rubbish to her, the whole pyramid, but for Rogers, she supposed she could do it every once in a while.

"Bring me some carrots. They've got a nice crunch, and they're sweet."

Rogers raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised that she would be so forthcoming over a topic she was until a few moments ago, so stubborn about.

What happened next was something even better.

He smiled again.

"You got it." Tilly walked him out. After making sure she knew where to find him if needed, Rogers promised to be over in a couple of days with every garbage bag, paper towel, and cleaning supply he could find. Tilly simply shook her head and said that she'd lock him out if he tried that, but the way Rogers looked at her suggested that he knew he'd get in one way or the other.

As Rogers left, she sat down and smirked.

He might just make her an upstanding civilian yet, but she promised to make it one hell of a ride until then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: Rogers is known for being one hell of a nag. How do wild spirits like Tilly and later Alice feel when he's suddenly a very present part of their lives?**

 **Time for part 2! Before I start again, I want to thank the Tumblr user killianmesmalls for giving me this prompt! Confession time: She originally asked me to examine how Tilly would view Roger's nagging after the curse broke, and that's what the goal of this part is!**

 **Let's get a move on!**

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Tilly doesn't have a problem with Roger's nagging until the curse breaks, and when it happens, suddenly Alice very much does.

Alice isn't the child that she used to be. Before Gothel cursed her father's heart and separated them, she was a teenager, and an isolated one at that. Her bits of nuttiness had been accepted. But it's been over a decade since then. She's been out in the world. She should be more…normal.

She now wonders if she's good enough for him. The curse has curbed his taste, made him civil, or at least more so than he was before.

He's changed too. As Rogers, he's less accepting of her bouts of silliness past a certain point. As they got closer, he started to nag more. Eat this. Bundle up. Read some more books. Tilly, little by little, listened, because he was her truest friend in an otherwise cold and manipulative world.

But now, Rogers is her father, and Alice finds the person who she is to be a terrifying embarrassment when faced with the reality of who Killian has become. Not every part of her. She's not ashamed of her girlfriend, who Rogers has welcome into the family with warm and open arms. Other parts of herself though, she's more afraid to show. They're things that Rogers always nagged about. When they eat, she doesn't ask for orange marmalade sandwiches. She has turkey instead, and salads at dinner. She doesn't make the same observations that she usually would. She keeps her spaces clean.

Killian doesn't address any of it until one day where he hears Alice styling her hair from the bathroom with a blow dryer. He knocks on the door.

"Alice, love," Killian asks hesitantly. "Can we talk when you're dressed?"

"Of course, Papa." Alice finds herself apprehensive. It's not an emotion she's foreign to, but she's seldom been apprehensive towards either her papa or Rogers.

It's only when she knows she's disappointed him.

Alice slowly gets ready, her mind running with anything and everything that she might have done to cause this disappointment. She's been careful, but perhaps what she's messed up is hidden in plain sight. She looks around. Her room is spotless. Her clothes aren't wrinkled. She had even blow dried her hair so that she could style it in a neat way that she thinks he'd like.

It doesn't makes sense. Normally, those four words are a comfort, but for now, they cause panic.

When she finally emerges, sporting a v-neck, unripped jeans, and flats, Killian is waiting for her at the kitchen table. He looks nervous, as if he's searching for the words to convey his displeasure. Alice silently gulps.

She sits down. Killian gives her a weak smile.

"Hello, Papa," she greets. "What did you want to talk about?"

Killian's smile fades away and he bites his lip. There's a pause before he speaks.

"Is…Is everything alright, Alice?" He asks, concern clear. "With you, that is?"

Alice longs to tell him that it's not, that her fear of letting her father down is eating at her like a dog at a slab of peanut butter.

"Everything's fine," she lies. "Why do you ask?"

"I just worry you're not happy."

Alice sighs. This part is easy to say. This part is the truth.

"Of course I'm happy, Papa. We're together again." Killian smiles again and she mirrors it back.

"I know, Alice," he says, his expressions much more relaxed. "I think it's being with you, getting used to you again that's made me all confused. You've grown and changed so much," Killian comments, placing a reassuring hand on hers. "I hardly recognize you sometimes."

She gestures her hands towards herself. "I know, right?" Regardless of her words and a level of genuine happiness at being here, being with her father once more, she feels hollow. She knows why too. Pesky half truths. She'd have to squash the longing for her old life, for her own self until it goes away. It'll be hard, but she'd figure it out.

Killian clicks his tongue. "It seems that time only moves forward, and we all must adapt. You'd figure being over two hundred years old, I'd know that better than anyone, right?" Alice nods. She's missed this so much. It's worth it to give up her true self to be with him. She hopes so at least. "Well, it's nearing noon. Shall we eat?"

"Yes, Papa." She feels her stomach beg for food. In all her worries, she's famished herself.

"We can have anything you want, though I suppose, given your new habits, we'll have no more lunches of orange marmalade," he teases.

In that moment, Alice's breathing goes heavy, and her smile crumbles beneath her. She can't even fake a smile, let alone a chortle at his remark.

Despite all her efforts beforehand, that one sentence from her father, that one bit of seeming disregard for her favorite meal destroys her resolve.

Perhaps it's because it's one of their oldest traditions. Perhaps it's because Killian knows that Tilly loves it and on the worst of days, it was the only thing that could make her childhood self smile. No matter the reason, the spark of realization for the true nature of her sacrifice chokes her like a chicken bone in her throat.

Suddenly, that self that she longed to abandon so much becomes that much harder to.

No, she can't do it, and that crushes her.

"Papa," she blubbers, tears growing in her eyes.

"A-Alice," Killian speaks softly, his hand lightly squeezing hers. "What's wrong?"

By this point, Alice's blubbers have grown into full on sobs. Killian scoots his chair closer to her and wraps his arms around her.

"It's okay, Alice," he coos. "It's okay."

It's not though. She's failed to live up to her father's hopes for her, and she has no idea what will happen next.

"No, it's not!" Alice insists.

"Please Alice," Killian begs. "Tell me what's the matter." She, against her wishes, pulls back from their hug and looks into her father's eyes. They're equal parts bright and calming. All they want, and by extension, all he wants is to make things better, to make her better.

But she's not better. All she is is Alice.

"Papa, I can't keep lying. Not to you, and not to myself! This isn't who I am! I hate turkey and salads and boring conversation about the weather and spending half an hour getting my hair ready! I make metaphors about ants and I brush my hair maybe twice a week, and God, all I want is an orange marmalade sandwich right now! But you always nagged at me about that stuff during the curse, and like you said, so much time has passed. I know you want someone more normal, but that's not me, and it never will be me, and I'm sorry." She cries throughout the whole speech, especially as she sees that her father's face has yet to change or react to her words. Alice has never been so scared in her life. All she wants is to go lay down and cry until her eyes run dry.

She closes her eyes to let a few more tears emerge, and when she's opened her eyes, finally, her father's expression has changed.

Killian's smiling. He's smiling and a low chuckle is rising. He fans his hand through his hair.

Alice couldn't be more confused if she tried. Before she can voice the million questions, Killian speaks.

"Oh, Thank God," he sighs, still letting loose that low chuckle. Alice is still as confused as before, but this time, Killian is here to elaborate. He released a cough that brings his bout of blight to an end. "Alice, that's why I wanted to talk to you. All of these changes, they just weren't you, or at least who I thought you were. I was afraid you'd grown beyond the girl I knew you has passed, and nothing, not that witch's curse nor the darkness' hold could've hurt more than knowing that my sunny girl had lost all those quirks that make her who she is, and I'm glad they're all still here within her." Alice beams. Tears come forward and dampen her cheeks, but this time, they're happy tears. "I don't want a daughter who's too preoccupied with normal to talk to me about everything wrong with bobbleheads." Now Alice is the one chuckling. She's relieved beyond words. She still has her hero. She still has her knight, and all he desires her to be is herself.

"So I don't have to try to be a perfect daughter?"

Killian shakes his head. "You're already my perfect daughter." Suddenly, Alice stomach rumbles, and Killian's chuckle returns. "Well, with one flaw, and one easily rectified: You're missing a marmalade sandwich in your hands."

Alice smirks. "And would my Papa be willing to make me one?" Her tone is wild. He grins as she asks her question.

"As luck would have it, I have an unopened jar in our pantry. How about we stay in today, get in our PJ's, and just relax? Sandwiches and chess sound nice?" Alice doesn't answer. She instead releases a shriek of relief, a very Alice shriek, and embraces her father. They hug each other tightly, and Alice promises herself that they'll never let themselves be separated again, not physically nor emotionally. "I love you, Alice," Killian whispers. "Every single part of you."

"I love you too, Papa."

Finally, they were truly and completely together.


End file.
